Corrupt
by childrenofeomund
Summary: B went to the bathroom and came back with clean hands. And a bottle of lube. . .
1. Chapter 1

Title: Corrupt

Summary: B went to the bathroom and came back with clean hands. And a bottle of lube. . .

Style: weird. . . O.o as in, this is the way it wrote itself. Almost in a specific type of pattern.

Rating: M

Pairings: Beyond BirthdayxL

Archive Findings: Death Note, complete, angst, Beyond Birthday, L,

Warnings: graphic yaoi

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note

A/N: Based off the Vorrupt music video by TouchMyMafia. They need a smex warning label thing. Seriously *dies*

When L closed his eyes, he was in bed, at home, alone Black silk sheets were pulled all the way up to his chin. It was absolutely silent, besides his quiet breathing. He fell asleep.

***

When L woke up, the sound of a jar opening was heard, along with obscene slurping. He opened his eyes to see an exact copy of himself with red eyes. He was not alone.

***

Five minutes of threats, twisted conversation, and fighting later, L found himself pinned face down by sticky, raspberry-smelling hands. The bed squeaked.

***

When L felt B's warm breath and mouth on his ear, he couldn't help but shudder. He wasn't sure if it was in pleasure or fear. One thing for sure, was that B noticed it.

***

One sticky hand held his wrists above his head, the other pulled his shirt up, and then suddenly, he was flipped over, shirt gone. B licked up his neck to meet his eyes. He gasped at the red orbs glazed over with lust.

***

He didn't move from his spot when B demanded that he didn't. B went to the bathroom and came back with clean hands. And a bottle of lube.

***

B took his time, running his hands all over L. He took note of how skinny the man was. He also took note of the hidden muscle that could easily flip him over, but didn't.

***

B then realized that his previous assumption was wrong, as he was suddenly on his stomach, faceful of pillow. He gave a low moan when he heard a dark seductive laugh. This was definitely an unpredictable side of L. Not that he was complaining.

***

L thoroughly enjoyed the whines, whimpers, and pleasured moans that issued from B's mouth. He did not expect the following flip in which he found himself on his knees in front of his copy. He didn't expect the finger running down his back, either.

***

There was no kissing. No kissing at all. No Frenching, no butterflies, no eskimoes. That is, not until L felt a tongue follow the fingers and lave its way into the ring of tight muscle. Then again, that's not really a kiss, is it?

***

B positively purred at the embarrassed reactions L gave: moaning wantonly, then biting his lip; his back arching, and then hiding his face in the crook of his bent elbow; reaching a hand down to stroke his erection, and gripping the sheets instead. B didn't quite meow when L _finally_ pushed back against his tongue. Instead, L did.

***

B likened L to a cat, mewling and arching and clawing and so very affectionate to his master. Said master rewarded his kitty with more sweeps of the tongue, and a hand cupping his balls.

***

L dropped onto the bed, nt really flat, with his head spinning and a rainbow of colors flashing behind his eyes. He didn't hear the dark chuckle or see the way B's eyes glittered, or feel anything other than that all-too-talented hand. Blindness and deafness weren't too bad, he decided, when B _finally_ was kneeling behind him.

***

B decided he would buy a collar for his new kitty, because when he slid his length into L, the man purred and meowed and yeowled and pushed himself up to be back-to-chest with arching and giving B the most delightful glimpse of wanton face. L was embarrassed that B would see how much he wanted him, embarrassed that he couldn't hide his reactions at all, which made him feel helpless. However, he didn't do anything about it.

***

There was an appreciation in B's eyes while he looked L up and down. He could sense the embarrassment, but it only made him want his now-nicknamed Kitty more. The first thrust was the same as telling L immediately.

***

L moaned and gasped and continued his cat-like behavior as B pushed slowly and deeply. B enjoyed the way the pale man clung to him, unable to think straight in the least, much less stay upright. So B helped by leaning him down on all fours.

***

L could barely keep himself even at that, opting to drop on his elbows and bury his face in the pillow. He felt B chuckle, bend over, and lift his head up to whisper in his ear. "Nu-hu, Lawli-pop-" he emphasized the pop-" I want to hear you _scream_."

***

B appreciated the new enthusiasm in L, who cried out loudly at each thrust and (again) pushed himself up, back-to-chest with B. And B appreciated seeing L's face on his shoulder, buried in his neck, though it didn't hide his dewey eyes or red face or swollen lips or plainly, his very wanton expression. Yes, B appreciated it very much.

***

L made good on B's want to hear his voice. Profanities of every language, pleas, moans, whimpers, shrieks, groans, whines: everything left his mouth, and B only pushed harder, deeper, and faster. L only got louder.

***

Though L was lost to the world, B could see and feel everything. He could feel release climbing faster and faster onto both of them, and he made sure L knew, too. Of course, there was one last thing he wanted to try: L found himself on top, riding B's cock like a cowboy.

***

L was cumming mere seconds later, barely able to hold himself up, much less keep riding. B grabbed his hips and forced him with full knowledge of overstimulation, and watched it register on L's face. His eyes rolled back, his torso pitched forward, and B was quite happy to see his lover let go completely.

***

L felt every last bit of pleasure, his body jerking and twisting, voice hoarse from screaming, cock and ass sore from cumming, and suddenly he was falling. The world around him was dark and calm. When he came back, B was still forcing him down, still watching his limbs jerk and his muscles twitch.

***

B made certain of his decision before flipping them back over, thrusting full force into L. If L didn't know any better, he would think that B was trying to make him cum again. Then again, L actually didn't know better.

***

It seemed as if B really didn't give a damn that L hurt so good everywhere that he was reduced to quiet whimpers and holding on for dear life as his dick was coaxed quickly back to hardness. All he could feel was ripping pleasure, all he could see was white, and all he could smell was blood, sugar, and sex. And then it happened all over again.

***

B let go himself this time, fighting to keep his eyes open against the tightness around his cock, the black trying to invade his vision. He watched L pass out the second his seed spurt on to both their chests, while his own splashed inside L. He pulled out to lay down and make himself comfortable: L wasn't waking up for a long time.

A/N: El Fin, yay ^.^


	2. Chapter 2: King of the World

Chapter 2: I'm the Fucking King of the World

A/N: Ya'll are so friggin lucky that love you all so much. Inspired by music I hear in TTM's vidz, the rest of the chapters will follow this format.

Oh yes, he was the fucking king of the world. Truly, fully, and absolutely. Covered in blood, reveling in the stench and the power: he had that power to choose if someone died or not. And on top of that, he had the power to decide if they died slowly or quickly, if it was painful or numb, and all the things in between. Schindler was right: the power to choose was true power. But he was wrong on the point of letting the people go. The choice was power, not the act. So killing them was still power.

Maybe he should say he was the emperor. That was better. He was the fucking emperor of the world. Hell, a god, even. _The_ god. Now Lawli-pop had no choice but to notice him, right? Hm, Lawli-pop. . .

He tasted so good. Not his blood: he was surprised to find that the taste of Lawli's blood made him want to throw up on a week-old kitten. Ew. But his cum, and his skin, and his hot little mouth were all so yummy. Yum yum yum.

Kya ha ha ha ha.

He figured that was the way he should laugh. Or maybe it should be more seductive? Like a chuckle. . .that was a very top sound, right? A giggle would be a Lawli sound, all bottom-y and sweet and submissive. So yes, a chuckle was appropriate.

Chuckle chuckle chuckle.

That sounded so corny.

And now he was rambling.

Ramble ramble.

He needed to go find Lawli and show him why he was the king of the world. It would mean lots of dominate/submissive fucking. That would be fun.

B skipped off to do just that.


	3. Chapter 3: My Leftovers

Chapter 3: My Leftovers

A/N: This chapter is way AR. Not alternate universe, alternate reality. Totally different story. L is a regular college kid. So is B. Woahs. No idea at all where this came, I just went with it.

Dancing and singing in his dorm room was not unusual for Lawliet. What a stupid name, he always thought. What was up with his grandpa asking he be named that, seriously? Lawliet Wammy. No wonder he was always made fun of for it. But back to singing and dancing.

Expecially when heating up leftovers in the microwave.

And when his boyfriend came by for a nice hearty meal, he was just as surprised to find his dear lover dancing while cooking what he considered _crap_. Seriously, leftovers? Fucking nasty, always watery, and rubbery, and worse than cafeteria food.

But when he took a bite to appease his frowning uke, B found himself in heaven. He could only gaze in awe as L quietly sang: "Tell me how do my leftovers taste?"


	4. Chapter 4: All About Us

Chapter 4: All About Us

A/N: Doodle-oodle-oooooo. That's what the bases singing in a cappella Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies, bizniches.

_If.  
They.  
Hurt.  
You.  
They.  
Hurt.  
Me.  
Too._

Oh, it hurt so much. Locked up in a crazy ward, stuck there for so long until he was pronounced dead.

Stuck.

Forever and ever andeverandever_andeverandever_~  
He forgot everything until he saw his Lawli again. Oh, he remembered what they did to him, over and over and over again. It hurt so much, and he told his Lawli. He didn't even need to hurt his Lawli to make him understand! He understood already, and had held him so close and tight and warm and closeandtightandwarm_andcloseand_~

But he was tainted, and now his Lawli would be tainted. Lawli said he didn't care. Lawli said he was supposed to be dead. Lawli said he was glad it wasn't true. Lawli pulled the gun out of the closet. Lawli gave the gun to him. Lawli told him to choose.

He got so confused, he just wanted to be with Lawli _that_ way and make him feel _sososososo_ _goooooooood_. So he threw the gun. Then Lawli sobbed and he stopped and saw little diamonds rolling down Lawli's cheeks.

_Pretty little liquid diamonds_.

He licked them up, and they tasted like Lawli when they had felt _sososososo goooooooood_ when they were little. But now he knew how to make Lawli feel _sososososo goooooooood_ plus more. They would have lots of fun with experimenting. One of them at the crazy place, he was nice. Dr. Schindler. He was very very nice. Schindy. He giggled. He made him feel good after the meanies made him feel bad.

But it always still hurt afterwards. And now he could make it not hurt.

Lawli was hurting too.

B would make them both not hurt.

And feel _sososososo goooooooood_.


	5. Chapter 5: Malchik Gay

Chapter 5: Malchik Gay

A/N: Same AR as before, in a lil gay club. Uh, never been to one, so it's bound to be inaccurate. But that doesn't matter. The point is to explore the feelings, nothing more or less.

Girls voices.

Singing to a gay boy.

Seriously?

Lawliet was laughing as he grinded back on Beyond, finding that two lesbians were singing to a gay boy about being perfect for him. He yelled to Beyond.

"What do you think of the song?"

Beyond was listening, he could tell.

"I think it's a hopeless cause. Telling a gay boy that their girly-ness makes them perfect for him is stupid. A gay boy is gay because he likes the hard planes and flat chests and the dick. Like you, bitch."

Lawliet moaned as he backed against Beyond roughly, and giggled at the seriousness in the tone of his boyfriend's voice. He sang along.

"Malchik gay, malchik gay, I can be all you need. Won't you please stay with me?"

Beyond was grinding back, and Lawliet could feel his arousal through his leather pants. _Oooh, so fucking hot_.

"Let's get outta here and fuck."

"Sure malchik gay."

Oh yes, they got outta there and fucked.


	6. Chapter 6: All the Things She Said

Chapter 6: All The Things She Said

A/N: Uh, I guess it's branching into any music drabble, huh? More or less, whatever I'm in the mood for. Which is (as of now) t.A.T.u and Porcelain and the Tramps. You'll get some The GazettE and Gackt within the week, I promise. AR again: Lawliet Wammy and Beyond Birthday.

Beyond never understood why his gay boyfriend listened to lesbian music. Every other gay man he knew listened to music that involved lots of hips not lying and love games and single ladies and crap like that: he preferred his "emo shit" to any of that, but he still didn't get it. Why would he get the guy who's into that? For serious, why?

And that was Beyond rambling all over again, and he guessed he should just shut up. He liked that he didn't have to listen to crap all the time (after all "lezzie" music was just as good as his emo stuff). It had meaning, it had feeling, it had that essence of true-ness. And even if he liked the crap shit sometimes, being with his boyfriend also included hearing him sing.

And Lawliet had the prettiest voice he'd ever heard, and he'd never, ever get enough of it.

So when he had to listen to All The Things She Said by t.A.T.u, aka love song for lezzies, by lezzies, he didn't mind because of the pure sex pouring from his lover's vocal chords.


	7. Chapter 7: The Neighbor

Chapter 7: The Neighbor

A/N: A new AR, in which both are bachelors and Lawliet just moved in, fresh outta college and looking for some friends (and a job).

I'm meeting my new neighbor today. Well, technically, _I'm_ the new neighbor. Oh, god, I hope he doesn't think I'm terrible. I don't have parties and generally don't put up a fuss, but I like to blast my music to drown the world out, ya know? That's bound to piss him off. Hell, I should warn him.

I really shouldn't think of these things when I'm standing on his front step and ringing the doorbell. . .

Oh shit.

Oh holy fucking shit.

He's absolutely gorgeous. More than that too, he's, like. . .

Wow.

He's shaking my hand. Wait, what's he saying?

"Hi, I'm your new neighbor. If you need sugar just swing by, you know where to find me."

And he just fucking winked. I was blasting that song a few minutes ago. Oh, god, what am I gonna do?

He's smiling.

"I'm Beyond. You should know I'm not too normal. In fact, I'm not at all. Gay, crazy, been to a hospital for the clinically insane: we should get along well, don't you think?"

Sure Beyond. So long as I don't jump your bones and have you fuck me into the wall before that. Unless that's what getting along means to you. . .


End file.
